Snap
by LadyoftheMightyPen
Summary: She was alone, all alone in a world that she didn't want to be left behind in. This is the last memory of the portion of sanity that she held dear. ( One shot with snapped!fem!Austria)


Blood and Tears

There was something about sophistication that felt so much harder than simply opening up one's mind. Yes, that Anneliese had decided in all complete honesty and thought. Animals, that's what they were, leashed and collared so obviously and dragged around the messy ring of life, fearing the day they stumble.

The princess, she was the crown jewel of that house. All dark and light compacted into a filled to the seams little body. Her masks must have been excellent, she so concluded. That inside the fair features and silken gowns was a churning bubble of red and black, straining at the laces of her corset.

Anneliese paced across the parlor, heavy steps that clumped with each knock of her boots against the hardwood, a metronome with a foreboding future. _Click, clack, click, clack. _It echoed, bouncing off the walls in a maddening tune. The echoes tunneled through her skull, dancing around her head and nipping at her ears, shrieking playfully. She twitched, whirling around, still in her dangerously rhythmic step; a bubble of anger twisted and boiled up inside her chest.

It was those days she felt so lost and alone that she despised the most, and the ones that were becoming far too frequent, lighthearted, happy days few and far between. Continuing to pace, Anneliese glared at her surroundings, her mind reeling with the uncertainty of what in fact to say or even do.

Being alone did that, she supposed; left to her own devices, wandering the house and grounds with a dull blank feeling rooting her to the property. They'd all left her, one by one, left for their own lives and worlds, casting her away like an old toy, that nobody cared for any longer. Both marriages, no matter the fact they were arranged, she'd loved them both; the long dead Holy Rome, Italy, and Switzerland, gone from her life, leaving only stinging and painful memories in their very wake. She loved them all, despite her nasty attitude at times, though her anger at them was starting to grow.

How _dare _they leave her. _How dare they leave her alone in this big, empty house. _The one that had become her prison, holding her mind which imprisoned her body. She scowled again at the wall, whirling around to continue her frantic pacing, the quickening taps of heavy boots on the floor trying to put some rhythm and order to her exponentially increasing disaster.

_Click, clack, click, clack._

That beat, thudded from andante and allegro in a shrieking cacophony of footsteps, fluttering up and up in a spiraling frenzy. Her hands found her hair, tugging at a few loose strands until a sharp pain made her let go with a gasp. Miniscule cracks, barely visible in the glass of her mind began to grow, pieces chipping slightly in the din of all the madness.

_Crack._

It was an instant, an exact time and instant, that although Anneliese did not have the luxury of a clock to know this precise moment, it felt clear. The glass was not simply dropped through slippery fingers, an accident. It was hurled at the wall with surprising ferocious behavior, so many others guiding her weak, trembling frame through the movements.

She shrieked, legs buckling beneath her, and she crashed to the ground, landing with a sickening thump on the hardwood. The pain laced through her, the last little parts of her that still flitted around, finding a new opening every second to escape, sobbed in pain and anguish; terror and disgust at the transformation she could not stop.

They were gone, that last bit of her that everyone knew, flitting out and away. Lost, just like she was. A wave of terror flooded her body, legs curling into her chest like a child might, hands clapping over her ears to muffle her own keening whine.

The whine began to build in pitch and ferocity, and abruptly turned to a snarl, lip curling upwards like some feral being. Rocking back and forth ever so slightly, hands slid from her ears to her hair, pulling violently and mussing the normally meticulous locks. A particularly sharp pain brought a few spots of blood into her hand as she tugged too hard, and she shrieked at the sight; her fear morphing radically into a dark fury.

Standing abruptly, she stormed into the bathroom, where a well-polished mirror stood ever so grandly. Anneliese stared at it, drinking in her features like some hungry beast, scowling at what she saw.

Sallow skin, a steady trickle of blood flowing down her forehead to pool at the divot of her collarbone. Dark hair, in wild twists and loops about her head, giving the already pale woman a spectral essence, a stray curl not looking so messy anymore compared to the state of her hair. Her eyes though, so changed from the soft lavender that was so well known among her counterparts. Hard, cold, coated with a heavy, icy sheen that reflected of the bright bathroom lights, gleaming like some demonic feline.

Watching her reflection, she watched in awe as this foreign woman shifted, moving and stretching little-used muscles in synchronization with herself. It bothered her deeply, that shouldn't do that, no.

_No._

In an instant, a red wave of fury hit her, and in uncertainty of how to relieve this pressing feeling in her chest, she swung an arm at the mirror, shattering the delicate glass despite her weak frame. It stung, but she had care for it, nor the blood beginning to soak her dress.

A knock on the door startled her from the trance she whipped around, lip curling up into a heavy snarl.

_Click, clack, click, clack._

The steps that felt so familiar rang differently, rough, heavy, as her boots scraped against the floor. Reaching the door, the corners of her mouth curled into a cruel twisted smile.

She opened the door, greeting her shocked visitor with a maniacal, bloody woman.

"Oh, _hallo._"


End file.
